A Heart That Was Made To Beat
by Mad Meg Askevron
Summary: Dorothy is attacked in a tornado of rain, and made human. What will it take for Roger to see beyond whats right in front of him? Will it take a near-death exprience for Dorothy?
1. City of Perpetual Rain

A Heart That Was Made to Beat

By Mad Meg Askevron

Chapter one

Disclaimer: no shit.

Chapter One: City of Perpetual Rain

Dorothy sat up in bed, eyes wide, a strange purple color that could be seen recently, drenched in sweat. She tossed the blankets to the side and ran a white hand through her hair. She looked out through the window, it was raining again. She cupped a hand to her neck and the side that had ached was horribly swollen. She tossed the blankets aside and tried to stand up. Dizziness swamped her and she fell to the floor.

"Roger…" Someone slammed the door opened and she fell into robed arms.

Dorothy walked down the lonely road. It was raining; it was pouring so hard she couldn't put her hand in front of her face and see it. She had an umbrella shielding her and the basket of groceries from the tempest. She cried out when suddenly she felt white hot, searing pain shoot up the neck. She collapsed and was dragged into an ally. That was when Roger found her unconscious, and human.

When Dorothy woke again it was to an unfamiliar, elderly face. When the man realized that she was awake his face creased in a warm smile.

"Mr. Smith, she's awake." Roger, who had been sleeping in a chair on her other side holding her hand, woke instantly.

"Dorothy!" She turned her head to him and smiled with feverish eyes. The doctor gasped exposed her neck. The side of her that had been shot was puffy and purple. The doctor quickly reached into his bag and brought out a small tube of clear gel.

"Normally I would give her a shot but I don't want to antagonize the wound." The doctor put away his things secretly smiling over the way Roger held this fragile girl in his arms protectively.

Roger had held her while the doctor had smeared her neck with the stinging substance. As she laid there she looked almost as if she were dead. She looked no more then sixteen, with pale skin so fine that you could see traceries of veins where her skin was fragile. She seemed as delicate as a bird he'd seen a picture of.

She was fine boned and thin, Roger's hand engulfed her petite one. She looked up at him, already slipping in and out of consciousness. Her hair was a curious shade of red, like the blood red of a blazing sunset.

The doctor took his leave silently since Roger was lost in another world as he held her sleeping form. The next day Roger took a job and didn't come home until well after midnight. Norman and Dorothy were asleep, so he stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed on his bed. He lay there aching in ways he'd never known.

"Roger? I thought I h-; oh my, what happened?" Dorothy rushed to him crying out. Roger lay on his back one of his eyes slowly swelling shut. He was covered in bruises of varying intensity, and soaked to the skin. "Come on, we need to get you out of those wet clothes."

Dorothy walked over to his closet and got out a clean set of pajamas and underwear. Dorothy took his coat and set him down while she took off his boots and unbuttoned his shirt. She found herself crying as she looked at Roger's chest.

"Dorothy? Dorothy! Don't cry, please!" He took her by the chin and gently turned her toward him, and rubbed the tears off her cheeks. Dorothy turned away as he changed underwear. She helped him into his pants and buttoned his shirt. As she tucked him in she felt his forehead.

"Oh dear, you have a fever. Don't move." Dorothy walked into the kitchen.

"Dorothy, dear, what are you doing at this time of night; and in your nightshirt no less?" The shirt was a shirt that Roger had given her before she had night clothes of her own. Sometimes she just wore it because it was comfortable.

"Roger is sick, so I put him to bed. I'll take care of him, Norman." Norman smiled kindly and nodded slipping off to his own room smiling silently.

Dorothy brought in a tray with medicine and a steamy cup of warm milk and honey. Roger was soon asleep and warm, but despite Dorothy's efforts Roger caught a cold and was abed all day. That morning Dorothy, customarily, played the piano, but she played gently, playing a snatch of song from an old memory. She spent the rest of the day sitting by Roger, though she was still sick herself, and laid cool strips on his forehead.

When Roger woke the next morning he was as good as new, almost all of the bruises gone. He got dress but when he stepped through the door Norman called out.

"Miss Dorothy is missing, Master Roger." He said coolly though anxiety flashed in his only eye.

"Don't worry, Norman. I'll find her, besides I have an idea where she is."

Dorothy paid the man in the cab and turned away and hugged the coat Roger gave her closer. It was almost as if her were there holding her. She looked up at the iron gate before her with scrolled writing. "Paradigm City Cemetery"

You were once  
my one companion . . .  
you were all  
that mattered . . .  
You were once  
a friend and father -  
then my world  
was shattered . . .

Dorothy somehow found herself singing as she pushed the cold gate open and began to follow the path.

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were  
somehow near . . .   
Sometimes it seemed  
if I just dreamed,  
somehow you would   
be here . . .

Dorothy had only ever been here once but the memory was burned into her brain.

Wishing I could  
hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I  
never would . . .  
Dreaming of you  
won't help me to do  
all that you dreamed  
I could . . .

Dorothy felt hot tears slide, unobtrusively down her cheek, as her sweet voice lilted and rolled softly.

Passing bells  
and sculpted angels,  
cold and monumental,  
seem, for you,  
the wrong companions -  
you were warm and gentle . . .

Dorothy's fingers trailed against the smooth stone of statues; as she walked blindly down the twisted road.

Too many years  
fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past  
just die . . .?

Dorothy asked in anguish to no one in particular, tears flowing freer.

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
knowing we must  
say goodbye . . .

Dorothy turned to the steps behind her, some how knowing it would be Roger. He walked beside her as they reached the graves, listening to the song as she kneeled and place lilies before the gates that she had bought on the way. They must have been really expensive. Dorothy looked up at him, wet face shining, her black skirts pooling around her.

Try to forgive . . .  
teach me to live . . .  
give me the strength  
to try . . .

Roger held out his handkerchief to her with a gentle, yet sad smile. She jumped up and ran to him, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. Dorothy cried on his shoulder for a moment.

No more memories,  
no more silent tears . . .  
No more gazing across  
the wasted years . . .  
Help me say  
goodbye

"Roger, will you take me home now?" Dorothy asked in a soft and chocked whisper.

"Yes, Dorothy lets go home." He picked her up and carried her to the car.

_End of Chapter One_


	2. Daddy, Dearest

A Heart That Was Made to Beat

By Mad Meg Askevron

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: no shit.

Chapter Two: Daddy, Dearest

Dorothy lay soundlessly sleeping on her warm bed. Outside her dark room around the dome lighting branched and struck outside her window. She started to wake up when her window opened but a torn piece of cloth pressed to her face and as her eyes rolled to the back of her head she belatedly realized it was sprinkled with chloroform.

Dorothy woke up in a strange room with golden wood paneling. There was a fireplace crackling blithely, walls lined with bookshelves. On the shelves were folders, books, and pictures. Pictures of her in a life she never knew.

She sat up realizing she had been sleeping on a gold velvet couch. She wore a lacy white tea dress that had a high collar, with little white buttons down the back. She wore white petticoats and the skirt came mid-calf. Her hair was pulled back by a large white and gold bow, wearing a little gold heart pendant.

There were no windows on a door. She stepped through it and into a marble hallway that was lined with floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto a garden. There was a door and she turned it with a strange feeling of déjà vu. It led into an airy living room. Sitting on a couch was an elderly man with cruelly short gray hair. He wore glasses, brown slacks and a white shirt; reading a large book of sometime.

He looked up smiling when she came in.

"Dorothy! My dear!" he rose and kissed her cheek.

"Who are you?" He seemed shocked at her cold tone.

"It's your father, dear; Agamemnon DeChancy. You're Dorothy DeChancy. Done you remember…?"

"Where's Roger?" He looked crestfallen.

"So you're a remake of my daughter? I suppose Dr. Wayneright gave you false memories. He took you from me, you know. He was the brother of your mother. Your mother died when you were born. You seem so real for an android." He turned away. "Or maybe my serum worked. Let me see your hand."

Dorothy stared at him, overwhelmed by his words; but she found herself holding out her hand. He pinched it hard and she gasped.

"Ah, so the shot worked. Good, good." Dorothy stared at him in horror.

"You made me human?" He nodded. He began to pace.

"Along time ago, I met your mother, she was a student of mine, and we got married when she graduated. I met her family and. She had you and she died the next day.

"Her brother and I started a robotics research. Then when you were twelve you were kidnapped. It turned out it was Wayneright. But by the time I found you he had erased your memories and replaced them with fake ones. So, I thought it would be kinder to let you live in peace.

"Then when the cataclysm happened I found out about you. So I made serum to make you human and I waited, then I saw you in the rain and I shot you. There was only a 50-50 chance it would work, but it turned out beautifully. Though pretty soon you find you'll start to change. You'll become pinker, you hair will grow astonishingly fast. You'll lose your in human strength and weight. You'll be like any eighteen year old girl."

Dorothy sat heavily taking in all of this new information.

"I want you to stay here from now on. Now come on, dear, let's go for a walk."

It had been two days and Roger had been searching the city for Dorothy. Norman had informed him the day she went missing and he could find nothing of the girl. Roger sat with his back to his desk, watching the sun set in an ocean of fire.

Dorothy woke up in her new bed. She had said barely anything the past week she had been in her new home. Her red hair was almost to her waist now. Her bangs were still cut in a triangle and the bottom of her hair also cut into a point. Her cheeks had blush to them, and her eyes had turned green; as green as Agamemnon's eyes. Agamemnon had brown hair so she had to assume her mother had had red hair.

It was strange; she was neither happy nor sad. She always had beautiful clothes to wear, and nothing black. She had a large, beautifully carved bed with sheer white curtains. She could have everything she ever wanted. As Dorothy sat in her bed her hair draping around her, what an odd feeling, she brought out a silver locket with an onyx set in the middle.

She opened it and inside was a picture of Roger and one of Norman with their names under the pictures. There was knock on the door before her father came in.

"Dorothy, dear, what's wrong?" It was then that Dorothy realized she was weeping. Agamemnon looked at the locket in her hand and gasped. "You know this man, now?" Dorothy nodded. "Before cataclysm, you two were engaged. Nice fellow… as far as I knew. You met him after you lived with Wayneright." There was knock on the door and one of the maids poked her head around the edge of the door.

"Excuse me, master, mistress, but there is a visitor you master Agamemnon. " Agamemnon nodded and turned to Dorothy.

"Why don't you get dressed Dorothy and we'll have breakfast out in the garden." Dorothy nodded and rose as Agamemnon left. She decided on a floor length sage green and white dress. It had short puffy sleeves with a green silk cuff. It was all white and green silk, gauzy and soft. There was a sage green under dress you could just barely see under the white.

The white over dress was plane and sleeveless, the green had a pleated top and its skirt peeked under the hem of the white. A large green silk band tied around her stomach with a bow at the back. Finally the sides of her hair were caught up in a large green bow. She pulled on white slippers and stepped onto the balcony.

As she leaned on the iron railing she heard the front door open and close. She leaned forward and saw, she gasped, Roger step down the pathway. Apparently hearing her gasp he looked up at her through his sunglasses. But she despaired as her started to walk away seeming to not recognize her.

As tears welled up in her eyes Roger paused at unlocking the door and took off his glasses putting them in his pocket he distinctly winked at her and drove away. She quietly stepped back in side and wiped away her tears with a smile and went down to breakfast.

Agamemnon watched Roger until the car drove away and knew that he had been looking at Dorothy. Agamemnon smiled cruelly and stepped into the dark. No one was going to take Dorothy away from him again. Agamemnon stepped into the garden courtyard where breakfast was set up.

_End of Chapter Two_


	3. Highest Tower

A Heart That Was Made to Beat

By Mad Meg Askevron

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: no shit.

Chapter Three: The Highest Tower

Dorothy settled down to breakfast with a smile, her first time since she came. Agamemnon smiled back and took a sip of his tea from the small, delicate cup. As did Dorothy, but the minute the tea passed her lips, she gave a strange wide eyed stare, then she dropped the cup and it shattered on the pavement. She slumped to the side and Agamemnon smiled and carried her up to her room, it was a large turret and he locked her in, after changing her clothes, although she wouldn't be waking any time soon. Then Agamemnon settled back to wait as the sun its farewell.

Roger bided his time, waiting until 2:00 a.m. to leave the house. He had completely forgotten about the last heavens day present he'd given her, a locket. The onyx that was on the face was also a tracking device. Norman had woken him up in the middle night; it had suddenly risen to the front of his mind.

Roger drove over to almost invisible mansion. As he climbed the fence and looked up at her balcony an old rhyme appeared at his lips.

"Repunzel, Repunzel, let down your hair, might I climb the golden stair." He shook his had, not knowing where these words had spilled from. He winced, bruises, from the last battle with Alex Rosewater, still lingered. He looked around and saw that nobody appeared to be awake. He decided that the balcony to Dorothy's room was twenty stories too high for him. He finally found a back door that was unlocked. The only strange thing was, a few feet away beneath the white, wrought, iron table were shards of a tea cup.

He picked one up and wrapped it with a handkerchief and slipped it into a pocket. He laid his hand on the handle and it swung open with no resistance into a little parlor decorated in shades of soft gold. As he past through the room to the door on the far side, a voice stopped him.

"I can't give her to you so easily, you must understand. She is my daughter and you must prove your self as a worthy suitor." Roger flinched at being called Dorothy's suitor. "Yes, you can take Dorothy with but, since I am a registered official, you must marry her here." He watched Roger who stood there for a few seconds before replying.

"I accept your deal." He Roger said confidently, Agamemnon felt like cursing.

"Good." He clapped his hands and Roger's surroundings melted away. He was in labyrinth made amethyst, he looked up and the sky was frozen in eternal night. "Now all you have to do, Roger Smith, is get out." Agamemnon laughed and Roger started to run being chased by the echoes of laughter.

End of Chapter three

Sorry this is shorter then the others but never fear. This is a trilogy! There are two more stories! Oh this isn't the end of this one we still have a couple chapters to go. Go hit that useful button that say "review."


	4. labyrinth of Yearning

A Heart That Was Made to Beat

By Mad Meg Askevron

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: no shit.

Chapter Four: Labyrinth of Yearning

Roger leaned against a smooth, purple wall huffing. He closed his eyes against the tears of hopelessness when Dorothy's sweet voice filled the air.

"_So long for a while_

_I've been searching through the dark_

_For traces of the love you left_

_Inside my lonely heart_

_To weep_

_Or pick up the pieces that remain_

_Melodies of life_

_Loves lost refrain_

_Our paths _

_They did cross_

_Though I cannot say just why_

_We met_

_We laughed_

_We held on fast_

_And then we said good bye_

_And who will hear the echoes_

_Of stories never told_

_Let them play out loud_

_Until they unfold…"_

Roger smiled and started running towards the voice with the sweetness of a nightingale. Agamemnon rushed to her room surrounded in black fury, he roughly yanked the door open and yanked the guzy curtains away and stared in shock. She was singing in her sleep.

"_In my dearest memories_

_I see you reaching out to me_

_Then you're gone_

_I still believe_

_That you can_

_Call out my name _

_Voice from the past_

_Joining yours and mine_

_Adding up the layers_

_Of Harmony_

_And so it goes_

_On and on_

_Melodies of life_

_To the sky _

_Beyond our tight embrace_

_Forever and beyond…"_

Agamemnon sulked away into the shadows of the house. Hoping Roger wouldn't find her anyway. He knew beyond a doubt that this song would haunt him forever

"_So far and away_

_See the bird as it flies by_

_Flying through the shadows_

_Of the clouds up in the sky_

_I place my memories and dreams_

_Upon those wings_

_Lift them now_

_See them and see what tomorrow brings_

_In your dearest memories_

_Do you remember loving me?_

_Was it fate?_

_That brought us close enough_

_To fall in love _

_And leave in behind_

_Voice from the past_

_Joining yours and mine_

_Adding up the layers_

_Of Harmony_

_And so it goes_

_On and on_

_Melodies of life_

_To the sky _

_Beyond our tight embrace_

_Forever and beyond…"_

Roger stopped before a wooden door panting the singing was coming from the other side. He opened the door and stepped into the beautiful room. Dorothy lay on a carved bed that looked very old. Her gown was snowy white; her wrists, her waist, and her neck were banded with a stripe of sage green two inches wide that had a row of white pearls through the middle. She wore a three layer cathedral veil and a bouquet of white lilies tied with green ribbon.

"_If I should leave this lonely world behind_

_Your voice will still remember our melody_

_Now I know we'll carry on_

_Melodies of life_

_Can circle around _

_And grow deep in our hearts!_

_As long as we remember…"_

Roger leaned forward and brushed his lips to hers. He leaned back and Dorothy's eyes fluttered. At first she frowned and Roger was afraid that she had her memories but then she smiled and he swept her up in his arms both laughing with happiness. Then as they paused they realized how close their face were, Dorothy's pink mouth smiled and Roger kissed her tenderly. He carried her out into the beautiful sunshine. Agamemnon was no where to be found and was soon forgotten.

End of chapter four


	5. Epilogue: Bells

A Heart That Was Made to Beat

By Mad Meg Askevron

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: no shit.

Epilogue: Bells

Dorothy and Roger walked through the spring rain holding hands. Roger held an umbrella over their heads to keep Dorothy's new black dress from getting wet. It was mid-calf length and had a high neck coated with white lace almost to the shoulders. At the hollow of her neck was her silver locket.

They walked to the restaurant and handed the man their coats. Their booth in the back was almost completely out of sight. The enjoyed a beautiful dinner and when dessert came around Roger started to blush.

"I wanted somewhere more private but this will have to do." He slipped out of his seat and over to her side, he kneeled and Dorothy's eyes were growing large. "Dorothy Wayneright, will you be the mother of my children and be my wife?" He held out a star shaped engagement ring. Dorothy laughed softly and kissed him. He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her again.

A smiling waiter came and brought them a complimentary slice of their famous cake.

Dorothy stood in the brides' room of the little chapel standing before a mirror with Angel. Angel wasn't bitter about Roger loving Dorothy; in fact Angel herself was engaged to Beck. Dorothy and Told Roger the news in the privacy of their mansion and he laughed outrageously. Beck had changed his ways and so had Angel; it didn't disputed that Angel might not be "technically" a human, Beck just didn't care.

Dorothy wore the dress she had been in when Roger had saved her along with a bouquet of lilies that dipped from her hands tied together with a sage ribbon. When Roger asked her why she didn't just want a new dress she said:

"I found a picture in Agamemnon's mansion of my mother on her wedding day and she was wearing that dress and a bouquet of lilies and I saw just how much I look like her, except for my eyes we could have been twins." Roger had just nodded in understanding.

Norman knocked on the door and asked if he could have the honor of placing her veil on Dorothy. As it rest on her head he placed a little pearl tiara on her head, she instantly recognized it as her mother's.

"Your father saw the announcement in the paper about your wedding and asked me to give this to you." She nodded and Norman crowned her. Angel smiled her dress of purple silk swirling like leaves on the wind. Angel led the way as Norman took Dorothy's arm and walked her down the aisle.

Roger stood on the balcony in his white shirt and black slacks watching the sunrise while drinking his coffee.

"Roger?" Dorothy poked her head around the door and he smiled. She stood next to him and he wrapped his strong arms, his large hands resting over her vastly enlarged stomach, caressing its growth. "Not long, my handsome husband, not long."

End of Part I

Bows Ad dui, mis amis, bon qui, bon qui, to you all.


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